Dragons and Wolves
by starrysky7
Summary: The realm that was left was a ghost of what the Seven Kingdoms once was. This clear divide left a uniting of the kingdoms as there only option. Though, there would always be sacrifices to be made in the pursuit of peace.
1. Chapter 1

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The Others had been defeated, but the victory had cost them much. The realm that was left was a ghost of what the Seven Kingdoms once was. It was divided and destroyed. Dorne followed Daenerys Targaryen, the Westerlands falling behind with no one to lead them against her. The Riverlands and the Vale took their cue from the North, as did the Stormlands, and even the Reach was linked to them in a somewhat tentative alliance.

This clear divide left a uniting of the kingdoms as there only option. Though, there would always be sacrifices to be made in the pursuit of peace.

"You are my wife." Jon declared, gripping the back of the chair opposite where she sat at the table, "A man may only have one wife."

"Aegon the Conqueror had two."

"Aye," he acknowledged, "And Maegor the Cruel had six."

"He only had three at once," she pousted out casually, much to his annoyance, "We all have our duties to the realm."

"And I have duties to you, and to our children." He said, "The realm can burn before I dishonour you."

 _Blood may name him Rhaegar's child_ , she thought, _but he was Ned's son through and through_. And she knew he thought back to the actions of both his father's when faced with his current predicament. Rhaegar had taken a second wife and it had torn the realm apart.

 _But I am not Lyanna or Elia_ , she told herself, _there would be no abductions or clandestine affairs_. This was not for a prophecy. They were doing this to heal the realm.

 _And do not pretend I did not see the way you looked at Val_ , she thought, _and now you look at Daenerys the same way_. Let no one ever accuse her of being blind. Her husband desired the wildling princess, and now the would-be-queen. It was not love, not what he felt for her. And she could not blame him for such lust. They were only thoughts, after all, thoughts could not harm her so long as they remained so.

"I will not let the realm burn." She said, "If I must share you with this Dragon queen, then so be it."

Jon took more convincing before he begrudgingly agreed. It may have seemed a dishonourable act to Jon, but it would be far more dishonourable for him to let Daenerys burn the kingdoms. Though, she doubted that the dragon Rhaegal would side against them, given he had chosen Jon as his rider. Even so, that was still two dragons against one.

And Daenerys needed them even more, for they held the loyalty of more than half the kingdom. They wanted peace. She wanted power.

When they meet with the Queen in the throne room, she did not sit on the Iron Throne, but stood with them as equals.

"I agree to your terms, Your Grace." Jon said, the bitterness obvious in his tone, "If you meet mine."

"Tell me what these terms are," Daenerys demanded, "And we will see if we can come to an agreement to end the bloodshed."

"My eldest son, Brandon, will be the heir." He said, looking down with discomfort, "No children we might have will displace him."

"I will have no children, but I will admit that we do need an heir." Daenerys said, "But Brandon is a Stark name, not one for a Targaryen prince."

"He may take a Targaryen name when he ascends to the throne," Layla suggested, "But you cannot compel me to rename my son."

"No, I would do no such thing." Daenerys admitted, "I do suppose that is a sufficient compromise. If that is all, then we will be wed in a moon's time, and the coronation shortly after."

"Coronation?" Jon asked,

"Yes," Daenerys replied, "Thee people will need to see their king and queens."

"Queens?" Layla asked this time, "You mean to crown me as well?"

"You were a Queen in your own right," Daenerys said, "It does not seem right to only make you Queen Consort."

"Thank you," Layla nodded, "Your Grace."

 _But she was wrong_ , she thought, _what crown did I earn_? She was queen by virtue of marrying a king. _But I reclaimed the North_ , she reminded herself, _I held it, lead it, ruled it_. _That must count for something_.

When the day of their marriage reached, it seemed an peculiar thing to her, to watch one's husband wed another. It may have hurt more, had Jon not constantly looked to her during the ceremony. He wed the Dragon Queen in front of the New Gods, but they had wed in front of the Old Gods. And it was the Old Gods she knew he still prayed too.

At the feast she played the perfect guest. Sitting beside them, she did not allow Jon to lay a hand across her thigh as he usually would, or clasp her fingers in his. All conversation was directed at Daenerys as well, though Jon often remained quiet as his wives conversed.

In fact, Jon spent most of the feast brooding away. He had, by all accounts, inherited Rhaegar's melancholy. But Layla had aspired to make this a joyous occasion, and so it would be such. The music was loud, though she did not dare to sing to stop attention from moving to her. She danced with each of her step-sons, then her good-brother, Harlon, but dared not dance with any she had no familial connection to.

When the time for the bedding came she took no part in stripping her husband, simply slinking back to her room, trying and failing not to imagine what was occurring not to far from her. But she did not sleep alone that night, for her husband soon sought comfort back in her familiar arms, burying himself inside her as he pledged his love into the crook of her neck.

The Other Queen, as Layla had taken to calling Daenerys in her thoughts, was not pleased by the disappearance of her husband, so Layla sought her out the next morning.

"My apologies, Your Grace, for last night," Layla said, "The King should not have left you."

"Please, call me Daenerys, we are sisters now." She said, "And you have no need to apologise for our husband's behaviour. What were you to do, bar him from your room?"

 _I could have_ , she admitted, _I could have ordered he turn around_. _I could have_ _marched him back to your bed_. But she had not. Instead, she had let him make love to her, sleep by her side, and wake her with kisses.

"May I ask, what," she started, but took a moment to compose the perfect question in her mind before speaking, "What happened last night?" She asked, "I hoped he did not treat you poorly."

"He was kind and gentle." Daenerys said, "I know he will never love me, and I do not expect that. But I do hope he will not always hate me."

"He doesn't hate you." Layla assured her, "He's just conflicted."

"That's a nice way of putting it." Daenerys said, leaning forward slightly, "May I ask you something?"

"Of course."

"Why did you allow this marriage?" She asked, "What stood for you to gain?"

"Peace for the people." Layla shrugged, "I'm not overly fond of watching people burn. What about you? Why did you want this?"

"I did not wish to burn my people." Daenerys admitted, "You and Jon seemed the best candidates."

Layla did not ask her to expand on this. It felt odd to be sharing secrets with her husband's other wife. They seemed to like on another more than Jon and Daenerys. Or, at least, there was a certain amount of respect between the queens.

"What should my children call you?" She asked, "Aunt, perhaps."

"Yes," Daenerys agreed, "I think I would like that."

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 **This is separate from my other one-shots, and will read more like a collection of one-shots than a full story.**


	2. Chapter 2

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The court had gathered on each side of the throne room, all eyes turned as the doors opened, and the monarchs proceeded inside. They were all dressed in the red and black of the Targaryens, a united front, they marched slowly down the hall. Their faces were stony as they reached the Iron Throne, Jon taking a seat, as his wives stood to each side of him. Layla knew it had pained Daenerys to allow this arrangement, but they had both agreed the lords would not accept it any other way.

Each crown was slightly different. Jon's was made of black iron, surrounded by spikes with a single red ruby. Daenerys wore the crown gifted to her by warlocks of Qarth, golden and molded into a three-headed dragon. Layla's was a silver circlet, encrusted with small red jewels.

 _This is my second crown_ , she reminded herself, her mind going back to the crown she kept in her room, hidden away from prying eyes. Some may be suspicious of her hoarding a remnant of her previous marriage. But it was the only gift Robb had ever given her, beside the son that stood watching his mother proclaimed queen. _He doesn't understand what this means_ , she thought, _he doesn't know this means we will have to be separated_.

Her heart almost broke at the thought, but she steeled herself. She was a queen, and queens did not cry.

Daring to cast a glance beside her, she allowed herself a small smile. There sat her husband, looking every inch the king. This may be a burden he did not want, but he wore it so well.


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: Everything belongs to its rightful owners.**

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The court had rejoiced when the king announced the news of the queen's pregnancy, and even Daenerys offered her congratulations, though her smile was sad. But that was all forgotten when Jon pressed a kiss to the top of her head, picking up little Ned to place on his lap whilst Brandon chortled away in hers. She did not see Daenerys slip away, too engrossed in her little family. It was, of course, incomplete, her step-sons having returned to the North. She had cried after they departed the capital, Jon holding her in his arms that night. But they were safe, and they were home.

Jon danced with her that night, after much assurances that it would not harm the babe, and he would let no other have the honour. That night she was all his.

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This pregnancy had to be far easier then the previous two, the palace being a far more comfortable place than a war camp or on the run, with no war looming over her. Despite Jon's insistence that she rest she continued to fulfill her duties as queen, and what time she did have free she spent playing with her children.

On one such afternoon, she walked through the gardens, each of her hands gripping her the hands of her young sons. Two guards trailed after them, and she still found it an odd thing to be constantly followed. Even if it was for their safety, she did not enjoy the lack of privacy.

Of course, when they had been crowned she had relinquished all rights to privacy, and none more so than the privacy of her womb. It was now the business of the realm what occurred in her bedroom. Tyrion, the new Hand, had ever so subtly made it clear that it would be preferable for the child inside her be a prince. It had taken all her restraint not to rage at the implication that of any harm befalling her son, and that a daughter would not be as good as a son.

But the court held a great interest into the happenings in the other queen's bedroom, or lack thereof, for Jon had not paid a visit since they wed. And for all the sympathy she had towards the woman so unwanted by her husband, she could not help but be glad. For if Jon did not visit her bed, he would not get a child on her, and that would mean her son's inheritance was secure.

And because the gods liked to play their games, it was the very queen in question who sat just as she turned the corner.

"Your Grace." Layla greeted, smiling at her

"Your Grace." Daenerys replied, "It is a lovely day for a walk."

"Yes," she agreed, "I thought it good to walk while it still does not exhaust me."

"Of course."

Silence fell over them, and Layla took the opportunity to hand her children to one of her handmaidens to be taken back to the Red Keep.

"May I join you?" She asked, to which Daenerys nodded and she took the seat beside her, "I am sorry if this is difficult for you, seeing my children, I know you lost your unborn child. And your husband, I am sorry for that."

"Thank you. I, too, am sorry for you losing your two husbands." Daenerys said, "If this is not too forward, is it strange for you to now be married to Jon, having wed his presumed brother."

"I married Jon because I loved him, and to help me stay with my son." Layla explained, "I did not realize it would take me to King's Landing, so very far away from Winterfell."

"It will be awhile before he must go North," Daenerys assured her, "And you are always free to visit him as often as you please."

 _So that is her plan_ , she thought, _to have me go North as often as possible so that she can dig her claws into Jon_. She would fill his mind with poison and turn him against her. _Jon wouldn't let her_ , she tried to assure herself, _he would never displace his son_.

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Many moons passed, and before she knew it, she was presenting her daughter to the court. The little princess had been named Alysanne, the first of the king's children to bear a Targaryen name. And it fit, as even though her hair was dark like her mother's, her eyes were a deep violet.

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 **To reviewer Ronny, I apologize for not making it clear in the first chapter that this is a continuation of sorts on my other ASOIAF one-shots, though kind of an AU, and if you go and read those you'll find out more about my OC.**


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